I Wonder What God Would Say?
by destielismypurgatory
Summary: Oneshot from Dean's thoughts about his feelings on Castiel and why loving him could be fatal.


_**A/N- This popped up in my head after reading a tumblr post which I can't find the link to, but basically this is just a jumble of Dean's thoughts on Castiel. I will write a Castiel pov soon.**_

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This is my life and I am still trying to comprehend most of it. I am still attempting to comprehend that _I'm in love with him_. Fuck sake, I'm in _love _with him and I'm cursing myself for saying it so casually because it's the least casual thing on this earth. I'm in fucking love with him and I have to remind myself not to be. I have to remind myself that every time he looks at me for longer than a second it's not because he wants to suck my dick it's because he doesn't know when to look away, he doesn't know any better. God, that innocence. That innocence makes my insides do this dumb little fluttering thing that only second grade girls are suppose to get but here I am still getting that dumb little fluttering thing all because of a man's innocence. It draws me in. He has been through a lot, I'll give him that but he still has that wide eye puppy dog look on his face every time he attempts to work the coffee maker and goddammit, I'm doing it again. Don't think about him like that. He would never think of me like that. A fucking angel would never fall in love with a man, isn't homosexuality a sin or something? It would actually be quite funny and ironic if it happens, a gay angel. I wonder what God would say?

The damn trench coat is the ugliest thing I have ever seen. I'm 100% positive I have seen it at six thrift stores and I'm about 80% positive it's the same one just being passed around because nobody wanted it but he had to be the one to get it. I'll see it in the shops windows and shake my head and then I'll see it on Cas and I'm torn between wrapping myself up in it or tearing it off because I'm so turned on. It's gotta be his body, the way the trench coat forms to it. Those goddamn jeans underneath, the fucking blue tie I could tear off in a second. God, his torso and his stubble after he hasn't shaved in a few days and how it makes his eyes stand out even more than they naturally do. Blue has always been my favorite color. It's ridiculous, maybe a little childish how my body freezes for a moment when I look into them. I feel like a pussy. I feel pathetic because a set of eyes make my knees weak. I can stop the apocalypse but put Cas's infront of me and I'm stumbling over my words like a school girl asking a boy to prom.

It's not even his looks or his body, his natural need to do well is something I could never imagine doing. I see the look on his face whenever we have to kill a monster or torture a demon. It's a look of sorrow, I can tell he wishes there was something else, another way. And there's another thing, he knows there isn't another way so he pushes back his own feelings and does what he has to do. Every time a hunt is over, I wish I could kiss him. I wish I could grab him by the collar of that dumb trench coat and kiss him and tell him that he's strong, and everything is okay and I love him. I can't. I can't and it's becoming worse.

I'll wake up in the morning and I'll walk into the kitchen for a cup of coffee and he'll be sitting there, or leaning against the counter-tops or counting the mugs aligned in the cabinet for the third time that week because he doesn't sleep. It's unimaginable just to think that he doesn't sleep. I wonder what he does to entertain himself; he doesn't have much if all he is doing is counting mugs…again. I try to avoid the conversation of how his night went but it's hard when he ask me if I sleep well every goddamn morning. I feel so fucking _bad._ I want to tell him to come lay in bed with me, I want to ask him if me holding him will be enough to pass the time. He could just lay there with me and watch me sleep or something. I want him beside me at night and I don't know if that's wrong.

And all these feelings, every single one of these emotions I have towards him are never going to be expressed because I know, I just know, that the moment I let them out, the second I tell Cas I love him, he will be dead. Because every time I care for someone, they end up dead because of me. They end up dead because I love them and I can't let that happen to Cas. He's much too special. Loving him is a weakness and if demons know, if Crowley knows, if anyone fucking knows it would be used against me. Against Cas. I can't let anything happen to Cas and if that means holding in my stupid, worthless feelings for another goddamn day, I'll do it. I'll hold them in as long as he's safe.

So, I can't kiss him. I can't hold him when he's feeling upset. I can't ask him to come lay down with me. I can't love him. Loving him is a weakness but goddamn, he's my strongest point.

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_**Please review or favorite if you liked! Have a wonderful day, ya filthy animal.**_


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